years and six months
by jenny jar
Summary: Life goes on... SSHP, Not DH compliant
1. August

**Disclaimer:** Anybody and anything you recognize is not mine. 

**A/N: **English is neither my first nor my second language. Proceed at your own risk.

**...YEARS AND SIX MONTHS**

**August **

**1.**

"Snape, can I come in?"

"Not only you can, you apparently have."

"Fuck, forgot about this one."

"Language, Potter."

"Right." Smiles. "Drink?"

"No, I am good." Swirls the glass.

Pours a drink. Sits. Takes a sip. "What? No reprimand about not knocking?"

"I am saving my breath."

"Ah." Takes another sip. Pauses to savor it. "You weren't at dinner…"

Stares at the fireplace. "Missed me, Potter?"

"Well, everyone was there."

"I'm sure."

For a while there are only sounds of wood cracking.

"So, how was your summer?"

"Blissfully quite." A long pause. "Yours?"

"Good, good." Puts the glass down. Stretches. "Went to Egypt. Spent two fantastic months there."

"Yes, the Prophet regularly apprised all of us, the lesser wizards and witches, of every detail of the Savior's vacation."

Blushes. "Every detail?"

"Enough."

Chuckles nervously. "But you don't read the Prophet."

"Unfortunately, most people do, and the worst of it is they like to discuss it afterwards."

"Crap."

"Isn't it?"

"Yeah." Gets up and goes to pour another drink. "Refill?"

"No. And I'd rather you also do not overindulge in my best scotch."

""I'll bring you more."

"With your appalling taste in…spirits, don't bother."

Indignant, "My taste isn't appalling!"

Raises an eyebrow.

"All right, may be a little. But I am working on it."

Smirks. Swirls the drink in his glass.

"What? You're no winner of Witch Weekly's Most Sophisticated Wizard Award either." Waves a hand vaguely over Snape's suddenly taut form.

Long fingers delicately run over a frayed edge of the sleeve before stilling mid-motion. Scowls. "I believe, this conversation is over, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, come on Snape. You know I don't care about any of it. It's just…"

The scowl remains.

"All right. All right. So."

"So."

For a while there are again only sounds of wood cracking in the fireplace.

"Bill asked me to thank you. Again."

Sneers.

"Yeah, I know. Still, he is very grateful for your potion."

"No need to increase the bloody werewolf population, is there?"

Smiles. "The boys are perfect. As far as the kids go, I suppose."

Shrugs.

"Fleur sends her best."

Sneers.

"Right. They were sorry you couldn't come."

"Hope you didn't give any implausible excuses."

"Of course not. Just told them you couldn't stand them, didn't I?"

"Truth works."

Smiles. "You're right. So, I said that traveling with a gay Savior, who attracts more reporters than a pile of rotten rubbish flies, is not your idea of enjoyable vacation."

Looks into his glass.

"Ah, almost forgot. I brought you something. Here."

"What is this?"

"A souvenir. A souvenir from Egypt."

"A souvenir?"

"Yeah. Come on, open it."

Rips the wrapping of. "Potter…"

"Do you like it?"

"Potter, this…"

"Yes!" Laughs happily. "This is the box you told me about when we went to Forbidden Forest to pick your mushrooms and stuff at the end of school year. Remember, it started to rain, and we had to go back, because half of the herbs we collected got wet, and I tried to cast the drying charm, and you gave me a whole lecture about…"

"Potter…"

"What? You like it? I asked this guy in Cairo to find me the biggest one. I figured it's better than go back and force, like we always do, when you run out of something. Isn't this thing great - you put in whatever you collect, and it goes to its own compartment with the right temperature, and…"

"Potter, I know how it works."

"So you like it?"

"It is adequate. But," opens and closes the box, "I can't accept it."

"Why not?"

"Because, even after applying your Boy-Who-Saved-Us-All discount, this thing is worth at least…"

"Snape, stop it."

Proffers the box. "Here."

"Shit, Snape, you can't do that."

"Language, Potter, and I just did."

"What am I going to do with it? I bought it for you."

"The obvious solution is to return it."

"I spent so much bloody time looking for it."

"You can always give it to that boy in Egypt."

"No, he just casts cauldron." Stops, looks up. "Wait. How do you know… Ah, the Prophet." Turns the box in his hands. "I kind of thought this would fare better than my other gifts."

Raises an eyebrow.

"Those bookends I brought you from Australia last year?" Snorts. "You said that only a dunderhead would waste a bookshelf's space this way."

Shrugs.

"Then there was that little painting of ancient potions' room I brought from France. You said the wizard on it had no clue how to stir, and poor guy began hiding every time you looked at him."

"He was an idiot."

"Still, it was a good painting."

"Potter, I have no use for paintings."

"But you can use this box."

"Potter."

"Snape, I am running out of ideas."

"That sounds promising."

Sighs. "Right."

The fire in the hearth flares up, and a head appears there.

"Severus, ah, Harry, you are here too."

"Minerva."

"Headmistress."

"Severus, I just popped in to remind you about the staff's Hogsmeade lunch tomorrow. It's, as usual, at Rosmerta's at 12. And I refuse to hear any excuses."

Frowns.

"I'll see you there, gentlemen. Good night." Disappears.

"That should be fun."

"Fun?"

"Come on, Snape, even you have to get out of this dungeon sometimes."

Swirls his drink.

Gets up. "Right. It's been a long day. I'd better get going. Good night, Snape."

"Good night."

"Think about the box." Leaves.

Several minutes later gets up and walks to the recently vacated armchair. Picks up a forgotten glass and carefully touches the brim.

**2.**

"Snape, are you here?"

Takes several roots to the chopping board. Without looking, "What do you want, Potter?"

"You forgot the bottle you bought at 'The World of Spirits'." Puts the wine on the desk. Peeks into the boiling cauldron. "You left rather abruptly."

"My leg." Begins cutting.

"Yeah, I thought your limping got worse. Is this your medicine? Shouldn't you have some on hand?"

"I ran out," growls dangerously.

"Right. Anyway, how do you like the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher? Isn't he a nice chap? I don't remember him, but he said he was a couple of years ahead of me in school. Was on Hufflepuff's Quidditch team. Looks pretty good, doesn't he? Bet, he still flies once in a while."

"In case it escaped your notice, I am trying to work."

"Right, I'd better go."

"You do that."

The sound of door being open and closed.

Cuts the next piece, and swears – the knife hit too hard, and the chopped off piece is completely smeared.

**3.**

"…my fifth attempt. I am sorry to say, Severus, but I don't have the sufficient influence on the Board."

"I see. No change then."

"I am afraid not." Rolls out the parchment. "…teach sixth and seventh years…no more than eight hours per week of paid instruction…"

"Shit."

"They also declined my request to allow you to brew for our infirmary." Sighs. "Poor Poppy, she hates sneaking in your potions."

Stiffly, "I can always discontinue my charity work."

"No, no. She hates using Professor Laurie's concoctions even more. I, for one, wouldn't drink anything that came out of his cauldron even if my life depended on it."

Sarcastically, "And here I thought the time for hiring for political reasons in this school has past."

Purses her lips and rolls the parchment.

"I apologies, Minerva."

Nods slightly and hides the parchment in her robes. "What about your appeal to the Ministry?"

"Refused."

Shakes her head. "This is despicable. How do they expect you to survive, if you can't earn your living?"

"I am still a convicted Death Eater."

"Nonsense. It's been proven…"

"Minerva, they could've put me in Azkaban. I should be grateful for this."

"For this?! Severus, you are as good as shackled to Hogwarts."

Suddenly angry, "I know!"

After a long pause, "Listen, may be we should try a different tactic?"

Raises an eyebrow.

"I do not have enough influence, you… Well, what I am trying to say is may be the time has come to bring into play others."

"No. Absolutely not. I do not want my…situation become a topic of idle chit-chat."

"I understand. Still, there are people, who might be of help."

"Who?"

The door opens. "Snape, Cain and I are going to Diagon Alley in the afternoon. Want to join us?" Stops. "Oh. Headmistress. I am sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't. Minerva was leaving."

"Yes I am, Harry." Walks to the door. Turns. "And Severus, to answer your question - I think you know just the right person."


	2. September

**September **

**4.**

"…I guess I liked him enough not to care..."

Raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, he mentioned his girlfriend, but… It was one thing to know she exists somewhere, but been introduced to her made it kind of…um…final."

"Potter, even you are not that thick as to entertain any ideas…"

Interrupts hotly, "I am not thick, I am just…I am tired of…" Deflates. Dejectedly, "He is so bloody handsome. Such a waste."

"I am sure it's not wasted." Takes a sip of his drink.

Ignoring him, dreamily, "His eyes are so blue... And when he smiles… Damn." Jumps up and walks back and force for several minutes. Mutters, "Damn, damn. Why do I always…"

"Potter, sit down, you are making me nauseous."

Complies after some more pacing. Shakes his head. "You know, it was so nice - walking next to a handsome guy, talking about…things…"

Sneers, "Somehow I am confident that Mr. Walton's replacement will make an appearance shortly."

Shrugs. "May be."

"And we'll read all about it in the Prophet."

"Yeah, you are right."

"Then there is no need to discuss the subject any further."

"Damn." Stares at the fire in the hearth. After a pause, "We were sitting at Fortescue's, the two of us, waiting for his girlfriend. Out of nowhere this reporter came – 'Mr. Potter, our readers would like to know…' You know, the usual crap. And Cain got up, all six and a half feet of him, glared at that idiot, and said very softly, 'Get out.'" Chuckles. "You should have seen the look on that reporter's face. Priceless. And then Cain looked at me and said, 'Harry, if anyone bothers you, just let me know.'" Smiles and runs his hand through his mess of the hair. "For a moment there I felt that, Merlin, I've got my own knight in shining armor."

The lips curled as in revulsion.

Notices. "Right. Sorry, Snape. I know how much you hate it when I talk about this. About my…men."

"Hate?" Raises an eyebrow. "I simply do not care to learn all the sordid detail of your," sneers, "romantic entanglements, real or otherwise. But, I am sure there are plenty of people who would find the information fascinating."

"Yeah…" Smiles lopsidedly. "Trouble is in this god forsaking place you seemed to be the only one I'd like to talk to about it."

"Well, don't."

"Right." Looks at him. "Why, though? I wouldn't mind if you tell me about your…um…ladies."

"Unfortunately for you I do not have the need to flaunt my personal affairs."

Grins, "Well, may be if you had any of those…"

Rather snappily, "Potter, whether I have them or not, frankly, is none of your business. I refuse to indulge both your incessant curiosity and unsolicited bluntness."

"Well, if you put it this way…"

"Yes I do. Not for the first time, mind you." Glares into the hearth.

Still grinning, "Come on, Snape, what else would we talk about if not Cain's wide shoulders and blue eyes? Weather?"

"Potter, if you find my request too taxing," scowls, " you are welcome to leave. And not to come back."

"Oh." Looses the grin. Looks uncertain for a moment. "Right. Sorry, Snape. I didn't mean to… Right."

It is quiet for a while.

Begins carefully, "So, who do you recon is a Longbottom of this year?"

Glances quickly from behind the curtain of black strands. "It's been less than two week since the school started."

"Well, you always have you peak early. And, might I add," smiles, "you are usually right."

"Flattery, Potter, I see. Very well - Ms. Dashings."

"Dashings? Seems fine in Defense."

"You haven't seen her with a knife, have you?"

"No."

"I sent a boy, who shared a worktable with her, to the infirmary today. Do you want to guess why?"

"No, but should be good."

"It is. She stabbed him in the back!"

"What? On purpose?"

"No! She was getting something from her bag."

Frowns slightly. "With a knife in her hand?"

Nods.

"But how she got his back?"

The corners of his mouth tremble. "Stumbled over her bag."

"And?"

"And fell."

Chuckling, "And stubbed the boy."

"Among other things."

"What?"

"She is in infirmary too. With a fractured wrist."

"No way."

"Oh, and broken ribs."

Bursts out in laughter. "Ribs!"

"Two actually. Broke when she fell on the chair."

Laughing out loud. "A chair!"

"Yes. Took me several Repairos, but I am not sure it will ever be the same." A barely perceptible smile.

Bends over laughing.

**5.**

"Kingsley sent me some great stuff – description of spells they teach in the first year of Auror training, some departmental brochures, and, listen to this, a really cool collection of old cases. I mean, the whole shebang – the crimes, the investigations, the arrests. My seventh years are going to be ecstatic! I believe even you might find some of it fascinating. Want to see?"

Curtly, "No."

Looks puzzled. "Oh, um, okay." Frowns slightly. "I thought you liked all this defense stuff."

Curls the lip. "Stuff, Potter?"

"Well, you know, spells, casting, fighting."

"No, I do not care for this…stuff." The last word is hissed.

"Right." Goes to pour a drink. "Refill?"

"No, thank you."

Sits down. After a pause, "He's asking about you."

"Is he?"

"Yeah. Every time I talk to him." Turns to look. "What happened with you two? I thought you were rather friendly with Shacklebolt. Friendlier than with anyone else."

"Were I."

"He was the one you made an initial contact with after…you know…Dumbledore." Gulps his drink. Coughs.

"He was the only one willing to listen."

"And afterwards. You talked to him! You don't talk to people."

"I guess we ran out of topics to talk about."

"Right after your trial?"

Clenches his teeth. "About that time."

"Should I ask why?"

"No, you should not."

**6.**

"So, you survive the weekend with the redhead tribe, I see."

Snorts. "Survived is a right word."

"Is it?"

"Yeah." Smiles. "Don't get me wrong – I love them all. They are my family."

"But."

"But they are…there are so many of them. And they all talk, and kids scream and run around, and… Merlin, I honestly don't know how one can remain sane in all this mayhem."

"Practice, I suppose."

"Yeah." Pauses. Then, "Listen, Percy and I had a little chat about the next year celebration. You know, the battle of Hogwarts."

Stiffens.

"He wondered why you never come."

Turns. Frowns. "Pardon?"

Patiently, "He thinks you should come."

Continues frowning.

"Just as I always tell you - you deserve to be at that celebration. You fought with us. You managed to save my life. Again..."

Interrupts, "Yes, and was arrested immediately afterwards."

"But they let you go. Eventually. You are free." Waves the hand around. "You work, you lead…um…normal life..."

Long, thin fingers curl around the armrests.

After a pause, "Yeah, it's never really over, is it?" Runs his hand through his hair. "I still dream about the war, and especially about that night. Do you?" Gets noncommittal "hmm." Continues. "That small clearing in the Forest, Death Eaters, us, the fighting, the duel, the Voldemort's death, the blast… I dream how I am lying there, after the blast threw me away from the clearing - not an intact bone in my body…my glasses gone, my wand in pieces. How I could hear people screaming 'Harry! Ron!' but couldn't answer. And then the black fire – the heat, the darkness…" Rubs the faded scare on his forehead. "Jump up sweating every single time."

Fingers clench around the armrests.

"I must've looked quite a fright when you found me."

Very quietly, "I wasn't looking, Potter."

"Right." Frowns. "Right." Sights. "So, the celebration. Think about it. And if you are afraid, you know, because of Ron…"

Snaps, "I am _not_ afraid."

"Right, if it _is_ about Ron, no one blames you – Weasleys, Hermione… No one."

Narrows his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying what I told you back then, seven years ago." Considers for a moment. Then, "All right, may be not seven years ago, but when I had a chance to really think about it."

"A noble occupation indeed, but quite useless under the circumstances. I left the boy in the damn Forest."

"You couldn't find him…"

"I should have, shouldn't I?"

"With your leg almost cursed off, with me as dead weight?"

Looks away.

"Snape, there were Aurors, and some members of the Order… When blast threw Ron and I into the Forest, no one knew what to do. He went one way, I – another. And then there was the fire. Just because you managed to find and drag me out…"

Visibly grinds his teeth, the long fingers bore into the leather of the armrests.

Dons his drink. "Right. Right." Twirls the glass in his hands. "Anyway, I think you should know that even Molly has finally accepted that…you didn't mean to abandon Ron."

Sneers, "Oh, and how did this monumental event happen?"

More to himself, "I haven't told you, have I?" Frowns. "Look, I know that it was not only my luck you found me, and not Ron. There was something else." Turns and looks at him. "A spell? A portkey?"

Keeps sneering.

"Right, you aren't telling." Gets up and begins pacing. "Anyway, couple of months ago, when I visited with Weasleys, Ginny and I were sitting late at night, chatting, trading funny stories and such. You know…"

Arches an eyebrow.

Notices. "Right." Resumes pacing. "So I told her how I was helping you brew the Skele-Gro. Remember, when you yelled at me for grounding the betel nut with the wrong hand, and I explained to you that my right hand wasn't right, and you yelled at me for getting confused with my own two hands, and…."

Interrupts, "Potter, is there a point to this?"

Looks sternly at him, "Yes, and I'll get to it shortly."

"Please, do."

"So, as I was talking, Ginny was smiling. I didn't notice that somewhere, midway into my story, she stopped." Looks at him. "The reason was that there was Molly, standing in the doorway, listening to me prating away. To tell you the truth, I was petrified when I saw her. She really didn't let anyone mention your name around her, let alone tell the whole story about you. So, there I was, two seconds away from a good shriek, Ginny frozen next to me, ready for the worst. But Molly just looked at me kind of…um…sadly and said, 'Now I understand how he found you.'"

Coldly, "So?"

Eyes him carefully, "So, it seems Molly knows…"

Icily, "And?"

"And you don't have to worry about her anymore…"

Haughtily, "I didn't _worry_ about Molly Weasley."

"Right. Just thought I'd mention it." Walks to the other side of the room. Turns and looks at him. "She wouldn't tell me how you did it, though."

Snaps, "Because there is nothing to tell. It was your sheer dumb luck."

"Right." Puts his empty glass down. Goes to the door. "I wish you'd trust me enough to tell me. Whatever it was…"

Ignores him.

"I wish you'd believe me when I say that I trust you." Pauses, waiting for a reply. "Right. Anyway, I hope you won't throw away your invitation to the ceremony this time around." Smiles lopsidedly. "We could go together."

Scowls.

"Good night, Snape." Leaves.

Buries his face into his hands and groans.


	3. October

**October **

**7. **

"I thought I'd freeze my butt out there."

"Did you?"

"No, but came pretty damn close."

"Hm-m."

"Your Slytherins. Arguing every point like that." Takes a big mouthful of his tea. Swallows. "Oh, this is better."

Fingers curled around the cup with dark steaming liquid.

"You do not look too hot either." Pointing at his cloak in the hook in the corner. "That thing couldn't be all that warm."

"Have you heard about warming charms, Potter?"

"Is that how you do it?"

Raises an eyebrow. "You haven't forgotten you are a wizard, have you?"

A bit defensively, "It is hard to localize those spells."

Sneers, "Practice, Potter, makes perfect."

Frowns, but then burst in laughter. "I can't believe that after so many years, you still trying to teach me."

"Somebody has to."

Still smiling, "Right." Takes another swallow of his tea. "This is good tea."

"Potter, it is the same brand they serve in the Great Hall."

"It is?" Drinks some more. "Seems to taste better."

Glances at him, then away. "Aren't you meeting Ms. Granger today?"

Checks the time. "Oh, right, I should be going." Remains in his seat. Drinks some more tea.

"Is it a dinner today?"

"Yeah. Ronnie is at the Burrow, so we can go out a bit later than we usually do." Puts the empty cup down. Stretches. "Hermione found this new place – a wizard-run Muggle restaurant. Am not sure what the difference is, but I guess I'll find out pretty soon."

"The food should be better than in wizarding establishments, and the service is better than in Muggle ones."

"Really?"

Shrugs.

"Sound good." Finally gets up. "So, you're sure you don't want to join us?"

"Absolutely."

"Even knowing what a wonderful place we are going to?

"Even then."

"Why? Out of all the friends I have, I always thought you and Hermione…uh, you know, could talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah, like discuss things - obscure spell, books." Smiles. "I am totally useless at that."

"I can imagine."

"So?"

"No. Somehow, I don't believe that Ms. Granger is seeking discussions of the sort when meeting with you."

"But…"

"Go, Potter, you'll be late."

"Snape…"

"No."

Stops at the door. "One day I will stop asking you."

"I sure hope so." The sound of closing door. "Harry…"

**8.**

"Snape."

Glances at him. "You look disgustingly Muggle tonight."

"I do?" Smiles shyly. "Well, I am not staying."

Another glance.

"I am actually on my way out." Runs his hand through his somewhat tamed hair. "I have a date."

"I see."

"Remember that waiter I told you about? The aspiring actor? The one Hermione said was too handsome to wait tables?"

Shrugs nonchalantly.

"Anyway, I got an owl from him this morning. So…" Zips his leather jacket. Unzips it. "How do I look?"

"Definitely Muggle."

Impatiently, "You know what I mean."

Raises the brow.

"Oh, come on, it is a date, Snape. I want to leave a good impression."

The brow remains raised.

"Snape?" Straightens his jacket, buttons and unbuttons the collar of his shirt.

Smirks. "Potter, if you keep your mouth shut, you'll do just fine. Then again, he is only a waiter…"

"Temporarily."

"Of course."

Zips and unzips his jacket again. Hesitates. "I am going, then."

"Go."

"Right."

Frowns at the sound of closing door.

**9.**

"Snape."

Looks up from the book and takes in his appearance. "Hm."

"Yeah, I am going out with Michael again."

"Michael?"

"You know, the waiter…"

Closes the book.

"He prefers to keep away from the wizarding establishments."

"He does?"

"Yeah. And you know, it is probably a good idea. Have you noticed there was nothing about me in the papers this week?"

"Yes, people were wondering."

"They were?"

"Of course."

"Oh." Thinks for a moment. "Still, nothing is better than all those made up stories they never seemed to be tired of printing."

Looks at him pensively. "If you say so."

"Definitely."

Looks down at his book. "Very well."

"Right." Rolls on the balls of his feet. "So, had to go and buy a whole bunch of stuff." Waves his hand vaguely over his new coat. "Hate shopping."

Smirks.

"What, being gay doesn't automatically makes me…"

"Potter."

"Right." Takes a deep breath. "I just want him to..."

"What? Admire your wardrobe?"

"No!" Gulps. "Well…"

"Potter, you fret too much."

"I do?" Frowns. "I guess. It's probably because Michael is... He is… I don't know…"

Glances at him.

Rubs his hands, then shoves them in his pockets. "Ah." Takes out a small package, wrapped in brown paper that is slightly frayed on edges. Quickly enlarges it. "This is a book Hermione sent you. 've been carrying it around for a while now. Sorry, it was neater when she gave it to me. Here."

Takes the package. Looks at it, then questioningly at him.

"I think it's something about potion development or something. Hermione got a couple of free copies from the publisher." Points at the package. "She said it's not out yet, but you might enjoy being one of the firsts ones to read it."

Turns the package in his hands. "Is a formal acknowledgment required?"

Shrugs. "Don't think so. If you want to. I already told her you said thank you." Returns to the door. "I should go."

"Of course."

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow." Leaves.

Looks at the package in his hand for a long time. Then slowly and carefully runs his hand over it, as if caressing it.

**10. **

"Snape! Snape!" Bumps into the armchair. "Shit! Who put this damn thing," hiccups, "in the middle of the room?!"

Rushes out of the bedroom.

"Snape, where are you?"

"Potter?" Waves his wand to light the candles. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, there you are." Grins, then frowns. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"Pardon?"

Grins again, sways on his feet, and gestures around the room, "You. Dark."

"Potter, what are you doing here?"

"Ha- ha," pretends to laugh, before bursting out in a fit of giggles. "I came to see you?"

Looks at him suspiciously.

"What?" Another fit of giggles. "I missed you."

Slightly irritated, "Potter, you saw me this morning."

"Oh, you know what I mean." Finally, manages to stop giggling. "I miss this." Motions his head in a jerky circle. Sways, almost loosing his balance, grabs the back of the armchair. "You, me, sitting, drinking. Talking."

"You did?"

"Yeah." Pouting, "You didn't even ask me to," hiccups, "go collect ingredients with you this month." Hiccups again.

"I was simply taking into consideration your busy social schedule."

"Oh yeah? Good. Tonight I cut short my busy…" frowns, thinks for a moment, then, "whatever…" Flops into the armchair.

Steps closer. "Potter, do you know what time it is?"

"Time? Does it matter?"

"For you, apparently, it doesn't. However, I'd like to have a full night sleep."

"What, it is late?" Makes several unsuccessful attempts to steady his hands enough to check the time on his wristwatch.

Sarcastically, "No, Potter, it's not late. In fact, it is too bloody early."

"It is?" Finally manages to look at the watch. Whistles surprised.

"Indeed."

Looks at him. Takes in his appearance. Thoughtfully, "Oh, that is why…" Hiccups.

Pulls the dressing gown tighter around his middle.

Grins. "I've seen that night shirt."

Scowls.

"Back when I was in school. Is this the same one?" Laughs happily.

Quietly, through the clenched teeth, "Potter, I believe it is time for you to be on your way."

"What, you throwing me out?"

"Yes, I am."

"Damn, Snape, I came to see you," hiccups, " interrupted my busy…you know…"

"I am eternally grateful for your sacrifice. Now, up." Determinedly walks to the fireplace.

Slowly climbs out of the armchair. Notices his movement. "Oh, no, Snape, you can't send me through Floo."

Grabs the Floo powder. "You imagined I'd drag you through the castle like that?"

"Well, I would walk." Sways on his feet.

"I have serious doubts."

"Come on, Snape, you know how much I hate to Floo." Hiccups.

"Potter, you're wearing my patience thin."

Obediently heads to the fireplace, murmuring, "No consideration, no regard…"

"Hurry up. You can enjoy your wallowing in your own rooms."

Shoots him a glare. "I am not…" Stumbles, his body lurches forward. Grabs onto him to break the fall.

"Potter!"

Heaves a sigh of relief, the face pressed into his chest. "Mmm."

"What?"

"You smell good." Hiccups.

"Potter!" Tries to free himself.

Gripping him tighter, buries his nose into his dressing gown. "Mmm."

Somewhat panicky, "Potter, unhand me immediately!"

Hiccups. "Oh, right." Leans away from him, almost falling backwards.

Swears, grabs his shoulder to steady him.

Grins. "Sorry, Snape, but you do."

"What?"

"Smell good." Hiccups.

Scowls. Angrily throws the Floo powder into the fireplace. "Professor Potter's quarters!" Thrusts him into the green flames.

Disappears.

Stands alone, breathing heavily. Then scoops more Floo powder. Scowls at the hand that holds the powder. Swears. Scowls some more. Finally uncurls the fingers and watches the powder streams back into its box.


	4. November

**November **

**11.**

"So, you've heard." Takes the drink that has awaited him.

Glances at him, then back into his own drink.

Holds the glass in his hand for a while, then slams it on the table. "Shit, Snape! I can't believe he's done it to me!"

Another glance.

"Can you imagine what's going to happen when they start printing that crap?!

Silently stares into his drink.

"Shit!" Starts pacing. "Shit, Snape, bloody shit!" Comes to the wall and hits it with his fist.

"Potter, your broken bones won't change what your boyfriend will spill to the press."

Turns to him, furious, "Don't you understand? Recap of one date in every Saturday edition! Every single date, Snape! It's a month worth of…"

Scowls.

Grits the teeth. Goes the chair and flops down. "Merlin, and this job! Even if Minerva tries to downplay it somehow, how am I going to face the kids after…after…" Shakes his head. "And here I thought I'd stay in Hogwarts for a while. By the time they get to the third date I'll have to quit."

Raises an eyebrow.

"The things we talked about, the things we did... " Jumps up and resumes pacing. "How could he do this to me?!"

"Let me understand it correctly, Potter, after all you've been through with the press – the insinuations, the gossip, the outright lies, you still manage to go out and open up to a first pretty face?"

Scoffs. "He is not… He isn't just a pretty face. He is so much more."

Sneers.

Stubbornly, "Yes, he is. I felt this…um…connection with him. He understood me."

Sneer is more prominent. "Really, Potter?"

"Yes, it was different from anything I had before… He is different."

Snaps, "Potter, your pretty boy is an actor."

"So what?" Frowns.

"An actor, who played a role!"

"No, no, there was no acting." Looks at him. "I would have picked up something. I am sure I would."

Forcefully, "Potter, he is an actor, who had a very appreciative audience."

"No, Snape, you're wrong!"

"Am I?"

"Of course."

"Then why is he about to print a detailed tell-all of his 'romantic encounters' with the Savior of the Wizarding World?"

Glares at him, goes back to the wall, and hits it again. "Shit!"

Downs his drink in one gulp and looks, somewhat surprised, into the empty glass.

For a while stands at the wall, the forehead pressed to the cool stone. Then turns around and smiles. "You know what, he couldn't do this to me."

"Potter?"

"He couldn't." Starts pacing again. "You see, the more I think about it, the more I sense that there is something wrong."

"Pardon?"

"I know Michael. He isn't capable of this kind of duplicity. Somebody's gotten to him. He is a poor guy, may be he was offered a fortune and couldn't refuse." Walks and talks faster. "Or he was threatened with…I don't know…loosing his job?…or…his family's safety?" Suddenly stops as a new idea hits him. "Legilimency!"

"Potter, it was a set up!"

"You don't know that!"

"Start using what passes for the brain in that head of yours!" Slams down his glass. "There was nothing in the papers about you the moment you went out with your waiter. Nothing! They were waiting, collecting juicier details."

"No! It was only because we spent all our time together in the Muggle world!"

"Potter, give Rita and her colleagues a bit of a credit." Gets up and goes to refill his drink.

Concedes, "May be. But still with the relationship we had, he couldn't have... There is something wrong. If I talk to him, you know, and find out who made him…"

Interjects, "What does it matter if he came up with the plan on his own or was talked into it? The boy lied to you from day one, Potter!" Adds under his breath, "Not that he had to put too much effort into it."

Glares at him, "I'll talk to him and... Better yet, I'll ask Hermione to talk to him. She won't get emotional and she'll figure the whole thing out. And I find those scam bags, who forced Michael, and I'll make them pay!"

"Potter, you are delusional! You've been played as a fiddle!"

Turns to him with. Sarcastically, "Oh, yeah? And how would you know? How is been paranoid makes you an expert on relationships? When was the last time you had one of those?" Snorts, "Do you even know how it feels to be close with somebody? I am not even talking about love – that subject is completely out your grasp."

Warning, "Potter."

"You sit here and judge other people's feeling when you have none of your own."

Hisses, "Get out."

"Why? Truth works, doesn't it?"

"Get out!"

"Right." Pivots on his heels and stomps out.

Hurls his glass at the wall and swears as it shatters.

**12.**

"Severus?" Takes several steps in. Tries again, "Severus? Your guarding snake said you were in." More steps, stumbles in the dark. "Shit! Lumos!" Notices him. "Oh, shit!" Rushes forward. "Severus, are you okay?"

Shifts. Moans.

"Wait, I'll… Shit…" Runs to the fireplace, and throws in the Floo powder. "Infirmary!" Glances around. "Poppy! Poppy! Shit, where is she?"

1212121212

"Is he still here?"

"Yes, in the other room."

"Send him away."

"Let me just finish this…"

"Ouch! Careful, woman!"

"I have to clean the cut. It's too deep and you've been bleeding for some time. I can't just spell it closed."

Muffles a moan. "Did he see?"

"No. Only the bleeding, I believe. Poor boy, must have been quite a shock finding you like this."

"Please, Pomfry, the poor boy went through the war. A simple cut and some blood should not bother him."

"He worries about you."

"Send him away."

"All right."

1212121212

"Where is your night shirt?"

"I can…"

"No, lay down and stay that way, or I'll take you to the infirmary. Ah, there it is."

"I am perfectly capable…"

"Pillows?"

"No, this is fine."

Fixes the covers. "The potion will help you sleep. I'll be back first thing in the morning, and don't you dare to get up without me."

"Quit fussing, woman!"

"Oh, shush." Fluffs the pillow. "Good thing Potter found you when he did. A little longer, and you would have to spend some time in the infirmary."

"Ever the Savior."

"Well, he considers himself your friend, and as such… You know, the other week he asked me if I knew a nice witch to introduce you to." Snickers.

"He didn't."

"He most certainly did. He is a good boy. Why wouldn't you tell him you prefer wizards?"

A grunt.

"Oh…"

"Oh, indeed."

"But may be…"

"No."

"Oh, Severus…"

1212121212

"How are you feeling, Severus?"

Bites out, "Fine."

"Poppy told me you should still be in bed."

"I needed to use the bathroom."

"Let me help you back. It looks like your bad leg is about to give in."

"I can do it myself." With effort makes it back to his bed. "So, you saw me, I am alive, now leave me in peace, Minerva."

Conjures a chair. Sits down. "I'd like to know why you had to leave Hogwarts without me. You knew how it is dangerous for you."

Scowls. "I had to take care of some urgent business, which required no witnesses."

"Care to elaborate?"

Hesitates, then curtly, "Potter."

"That horrible boyfriend of his?"

"Yes."

"How did it go?

"There won't be any exposés."

"Oh, thanks Merlin." For a moment she looks relieved. Then, "Wait, Severus, what did you do to him?"

Sneers, "Come down, Minerva, remember I have a very limited use of the wand nowadays."

Relaxes fractionally. "How then?"

"A bit of persuading, and a bit of money, of course."

"You don't have _that_ much."

"Albus left me some."

"Oh, Severus, you should've come to me."

"What, you are suddenly a wealthy woman?"

"No, but together we'd come up with something. I am sure Albus wanted _you_ to use the money. And in your current situation you can ill-afford to give anything away…"

Raises his hand to stop her. "Minerva, I wouldn't touch those money. Besides, Albus also wanted me to protect Potter."

Sadly, "And you are doing an admirable job of it. I hope Harry will realize it one day and thank you properly."

Sneers, "I don't care for his gratitude."

"Nevertheless." She sighs, looks at her hands on her knees, then back at him. "For what it's worth, I am very grateful."

His gaze warms up for a moment, before the face quickly arranges into a scowl. "If we are done with nuisance, I'd like to go back to sleep."

"Of course, Severus." Stands up and gets rid of the chair. "Did you notice who it was this time?" Waves her hand vaguely over his body.

"No, the brave vigilantes attacked me from behind." Sneers, "Thankfully, they caught up with me only on my way back. Imagine if they knew just why the 'Voldemort's lapdog' was out and about."

Frowns.

Smirks, "Why do you ask? Are you planning to avenge me?"

"I am an old woman, Severus, but you could, if you swallow your damn pride and ask for Harry's help in dealing with MLE."

Looses the smirk. "Minerva, this conversation is over."

Leaves, muttering, "Damn noble fool…"


	5. December

**December **

**14.**

"Are you busy?"

"Yes."

"Do you need help?"

"No."

"I--" Looks around the lab. "Can I cut the--?"

"No."

"Is there any cauldron--"

"Potter," puts the stirring rod down and goes to the chopping board, "What do you want?"

"You've been avoiding me for the last several weeks, and--."

"Was I? Then, let me get on with it. Out." Slams the knife down.

"No, please, I wanted to apologize." Pleadingly, "Please, the things I said that night--. And then you were injured--. I am sorry. For what I said. It was absolutely uncalled for and not true."

"Potter, I am not interested. Get out." Proceeds with chopping without looking at him.

Stubbornly, "You can't throw me out."

"Can't I?" Shoots a glare at him. "Oh, of course, the great Harry Potter always does exactly as he pleases."

"No! No, it's not what I meant to say."

Sneers. Scoops the chopped roots and throws them onto a scale. Resumes chopping.

"Come on, Snape, you know me better than that."

"Apparently, not."

Sighs. Runs the hand through his hair. "Snape, I am sorry."

Sneers, "Of course."

"Look, there is no logic, Snape. You always say I am an idiot, and yet you get upset when I actually do something idiotic."

The knife movement falters for a moment.

Presses on, "Come on, in a spirit of a season--."

"What season?"

"You know, the holidays."

Throws more chopped roots on the scale. Then takes the weighted pile to the cauldron, and slowly adds the roots to its boiling content. "Potter, if you are referring to Christmas, the blasted insanity is still three weeks away."

Grinning, "Yeah, but the spirit, Snape, the spirit--."

Takes the stirring rod and scowls into his cauldron. "Potter, I am working on a highly experimental and extremely volatile potion. Unless your groveling is more important to you than your limbs and health, then by any means, do go on."

"Um--. All right. I see your point. How about I'll stop by your rooms later? You know, to grovel some more?"

Shoots him a glare.

Smiles and leaves.

Puts the stirring rod down and swears.

**15.**

"This is the second night in a row you are here. Aren't you supposed to be--somewhere else?"

"What, you're tired of me already?"

"Perish the thought."

Smiles lopsidedly, "Right. I know I haven't been around much lately."

"No need to apologize. I rather enjoy my peace and quiet."

"Right." Takes a sip of his drink. Then another one. "Right." Looks into his drink. "You see--. I--."

Stretches his legs closer to the burning hearth. "Potter, what's with the stuttering?"

"Right." Glances at him. "I broke up with Michael."

Arches an eyebrow.

"Didn't seem to--didn't feel right any more." Shakes the head. Looking at him, raises the hand as if to stop an argument. "Just don't say 'I told you so,' because it's not--." Stops. Frowns.

Waits for continuation. Then curves the lip in a half-sneer.

Silence, interrupted only by crackling of the fire in the hearth.

"All right, you can say it."

"Well, actually what I wanted to say--. Potter, if you insist on basing your choice of partners solely on the merits of their asses--or faces--."

Indignant, "I do not!"

Smirks.

Calmer, "I do not. Not entirely."

Looks at him with mocking reproach.

"Snape, you are just too straight to understand the value of a man's ass."

Scowls.

"Right. Sorry." Runs the hand through his hair. "But there was more to it with Michael than his--you know. Even Hermione thought so."

"What does Ms. Granger have to do with it?"

Shrugs. "He wrote her a letter. After the announcement in the Prophet about--." Swallows. "The announcement about exposés."

Arches an eyebrow.

"I recon he decided since in a way she got us together in a first place, she would--I don't know--be more accepting of his apologies. So he wrote to Hermione saying what a mistake it was to talk to the Prophet, and how sorry he was, and--. She thought I should give him another chance."

"Must have been some letter."

"Must've."

For a long time watches the fire in the hearth.

"So, the holidays in Alps are cancelled."

"What are you going to do with yourself for two weeks then?"

"I just booked a portkey to Australia."

"Australia?"

"Yeah. Want to get as far away as possible from it all."

"Australia seemed to be the right choice."

"Isn't it?" Takes a sip of his drink. Shivers. "It's summer down there, should be nice. Care to join me?"

Arches an eyebrow.

"Right. Sorry I asked."

Sneers.

"I am scheduled to leave on Christmas day, so--."

"You still have over a week – plenty of time to find company."

Glares at him. Then smiles.

**16.**

"Snape, are you there?"

"Potter?"

"Oh, thanks Merlin, you are in."

"What is the matter?"

"I need your help."

"My help? In what? Weren't you leaving right after breakfast?"

"Yeah, but--. Snape, I've got a problem. Could you pop in my rooms for a couple of minutes?"

"Your rooms?" Hesitates for a split of a second. "All right. Step aside, I am coming through."

"Ow!"

"Haven't I told you to step aside?"

"Yeah. Still, your elbows--."

"Potter, what is that dreadful signing? Do you have your wireless on so loud?"

"No. That is actually the problem."

"The singing?"

"I'll show you." Gestures to follow him to the bedroom.

Frowns and walks after him.

Points at the piles of clothes thrown around the room.

Stands for a moment, listening to the singing. "The twins?"

"Probably." Scowls at his pants that suddenly begin humming 'For he is a jolly good fellow'."

"Have you tried--."

"Snape, I went through all the spells I know. I am desperate."

"Hmm." Walks around the room. "Have they all started singing at the same time?"

"I don't know. No, shirts first. I think. I was getting ready this morning, opened the shirt draw, and--." Swears under his breath.

"And they all do 'For he is a jolly good fellow'?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm." Walks around some more, eyeing carefully the piles of singing clothes.

"Snape, my portkey is in two hours." Gestures around the room. "I can't travel like this." Rips off his jacket that has just started a new round of 'For he is--' in a low masculine voice, "Oh, shut up already!"

Gets the wand out and accios all the shirts in one big pile in front of him. "The shirts, you said, started this?"

"Yeah."

"I am going to need this one too." Points at his t-shirt.

"Right." Takes it of and throws in the shirt pile.

Spends several minutes waving the wand and muttering something under his breath. Then turns to him, "What did the twins give you last night?"

"Right." Runs the hand through the hair. "A WWW t-shirt. You know Molly wouldn't let any of their stuff in her house. George told me to stop by the shop later. For the rest of my Christmas gift."

Looks at him pointedly. "Potter, where is _the_ t-shirt?"

"Oh, about that--." Bites the lip. "I destroyed it."

"Pardon?"

"I thought it was a culprit, and as soon as I get rid of it, the rest would stop--." Trails off.

Gives him an exasperated look.

"I know, I know, I am an idiot."

"I won't argue with that."

"But I did check it for spells and such--."

"Yes, it makes me feel so much better."

"Look--."

Interrupts, "Tell me exactly what you did with that t-shirt the moment you opened the twins' gift. Try to remember if you still have some wrapping, or the string, or the card. Anything at all."

"Oh, right." Runs the hand through the hair again. Starts slowly, "So we got to the gift opening right after deserts. Kids went first, then--."

"Potter, I am not interested in your Christmas saga."

"Right. So, I unwrapped the t-shirt, got rid of the paper. No, Molly did. Put it in with my other gifts, you know, the Weasley's sweater, a bottle of wine--. "

Listening, goes around the room, pointing the wand at different articles of clothing.

"When I got back, I put the t-shirt and the sweater in the draw, and the rest--."

Looks at him with a sneer, "Potter, you put the twins' gift in your dresser?"

Resentfully, "I checked the damn thing, didn't I?" The pair of sock at his feet take a high note in the end of '--nobody can deny'."

Smirks. "Apparently." Then, sternly, "I need to see everything you wore for dinner yesterday. And the gifts."

Fishes from the mountains of clothing as speaks, "A jacket, trousers, robes. Here is the last Weaseley's sweater." Then, blushing slightly, "The underwear from last night is in the hamper. You want it too?"

"No." Runs the wand over each item.

"The cloak, and the wine, and picture frames are here." Beckons him to the living room.

Checks every item. Finally, exclaims, "Ah-ha!" Pulls a piece of tinsel from the cloak.

Doubtfully, "This?"

"Yes, Potter, this." Eliminates it with a jab of the wand.

The singing stops abruptly.

"Wow."

Shakes the head.

"Snape, you are a genius. I owe you a huge one. Anything. Just name it."

Glances at him. Suddenly notices he has no shirt on. Coughs. "Why don't you start with covering your--." Nods at his bare chest.

"Oh, right." Rushes back to the bedroom. Calls out, "How did they do it? I mean, was it some kind of transmission spell? Have you ever seen anything like that?" Pops his head out, "You've got to admire those two."

"Potter, I should go." Steps to the fireplace.

"No, Snape, wait, I want to ask you something. Let me just--." Disappears in the bedroom again

Stops at the hearth and looks at the pictures on the mantel. Stunned, "Potter?"

"I'll be right out!" Calls out from the bedroom.

"Potter, you have my picture."

"Yeah, a student snapped it at a Quidditch match." Comes out of the bedroom, buttoning the shirt. "A bit out of focus. And you forgot to smile. Still--." Grins.

"Why do you keep it here?"

"Why not? Everybody has pictures of their friends and family on display."

"I am not your family."

Grins wider. "Snape, don't worry, being my friend doesn't make you--you know--gay."

"It's not--."

There is a loud pounding at the door. Muffled cries, "Open up! Open up immediately!"

Stiffens.

Looks at him surprised.

The door bursts open, letting in two Aurors. "In the name of the Ministry of Magic!" Two wands point at Snape. A moment later his wand flies in the hand of one of the Aurors, his hands bound behind his back.

"What--what is going on?" Looks at Snape, then at Aurors. "What are you doing here?"

Scowling, stares at a spot over Aurors' heads.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, our sincere apologies, but we have to escort this criminal out of Hogwarts."

"What?"

Nastily to Snape, "Get a move on it." To Potter, "No worries. He'll be dealt with duly."

"Wait! Are you arresting him? On what grounds?"

Grinds the teeth. "Potter, stay out of it."

Gets between the door and the Aurors leading Snape. "You can't just take him like that!"

"I'm afraid you are wrong, Mr. Potter." One of the Aurors pulls a parchment out of the pocket. Skims over it. "Ah, here. Mr. Snape is charged with the use of unauthorized spells - Article 12, repeated use of magic - article 36, and," smirks at Snape, "resisting arrest – Article 5. All the named offences have been committed within the last half an hour."

Confused, "What is this? What are those articles?" Turns to him, "Snape? What does it all mean?"

Glares, repeats forcefully, "Potter, stay out of it."

Stuffs the parchment back in the pocket, takes him aside. "You see, Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape here is a convicted war criminal. Although, his sentence was suspended, he has to fully comply with every provision of his probation or face a prolonged stay in Azkaban."

Glumly, "What kind of provisions?"

Growls, "Potter!"

Smirks at Snape's outburst. "Oh, Mr. Potter, there are a number of them – restriction on employment, on use of magic, on spending. He didn't mention it to you, didn't he? Hmm, I recon Headmistress McGonagall is covering for him too." Shakes the head. "But don't you worry, Mr. Potter, he is under a strict surveillance, as you can see. And if we catch him with a sufficient number of infractions, we'll be finally able to put him in Azkaban."

Looks at him. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Barks, "Because it's none of bloody business, Potter!"

An Aurors shoves Snape to the door, "Shut up!" Then hisses, as they walk, "Wait till we get to the station. I'll show you how to speak properly to the Hero of Wizarding World."

The other Auror, following them out of the rooms, "My apologies again, Mr. Potter. Enjoy the rest of your day, and Merry Christmas!"

"Wait, I'll go with you!"

Turns, "There is no need. If you want to file a complaint against Snape, you can always owl it to our main office. Good day!"

As the door closes behind the Auror, races to grab his cloak and rushes out.


	6. January

**January **

**17.**

"Snape! Snape! How do you like my present this time? Have you cursed anyone yet?" Walks in, grinning. "Snape?" Looks around. "What the…" Goes to the fireplace and throws in some Floo powder. "Headmistress McGonagall's office!"

The fire spikes green.

"Headmistress!"

"Harry? Welcome back, Harry. How was your trip?"

"Fine. Listen, I am in Snape's rooms, and they are empty. Like completely empty."

"Mr. Filtch had, probably, finished clearing up."

"Filtch? Clearing up? Did Snape move to some other rooms over the holidays?"

"Oh, you didn't know."

"Knew what?"

"Severus left Hogwarts."

"What? When?"

"As soon as his papers came through, he packed up and left."

"Left? What do you mean left? Like for a trip? When is he coming back?"

"He is not."

"What? You let him quit in the middle of the school year?!"

"Harry, Hogwarts was a prison for him for too long…"

"But, Minerva…"

"It is for the best, believe me. I didn't want to make him stay."

"But… Right." After a pause, "Do you know where he went?"

"No. He didn't say…"

"Right. Right." After another pause, quietly, "He didn't even owl me."

"Well…" Sighs, "Harry, why don't you stop by my office for a cup of tea?"

Runs the hand through the hair. "All right."

1717171717

Sits, staring into a burning hearth. Gets up and wanders aimlessly around the room. From time to time stops to look at one of the pictures on the mantel, the occupant of which invariably scowls and turns away.

"Right." Runs the hand through the hair. "Right… Right."

Finally, heads to the bedroom. At the door turns and flicks the wand.

The room instantaneously darkens except for the fire in the hearth and a squire of moonlight that eliminates a part of the desk and a corner of the carpet.

Halts. Rushes to the desk. There is a letter. Takes a shaky breath, grabs the letter, and opens it hurriedly.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I would like to thank you for your involvement in persuading the law enforcement authorities to overrule my sentence and reinstate my inheritance claim. Your actions were unexpected, but much appreciated._

_To insure that your effort was not in vain, I decided to leave the wizarding Britain. My recent experience has demonstrated how flexible the laws could be in the hands of the Ministry officials, and I have no desire to tempt either them, or the fate. While I have the opportunity, I am going to simply disappear. Probably for good._

_Since it is highly unlikely that we ever meet again, I suppose I should mention that your acquaintance wasn't entirely unpleasant, although, at times, I did wish you were never born. I suspect the latter sentiment was very much mutual._

_As a parting gift I want to finally offer you an explanation of how I found you in the final battle. I understand this gift is not as practical as bookends and not as esthetically pleasing as a painting, but at the moment it is the only thing I have that could be of any worth to you._

_You were right - it wasn't only your luck that I managed to find you. There was a spell. The nature of this spell makes it relatively useless, hence little known. Luckily for you (well, your luck did play a part) I was familiar with it. Here is the description: _

As you point your wand up and draw a small circle with it, you incant Reperio meus cordis. If there is such a person, the spell takes you to them. Otherwise, you remain where you are.

_Now your curiosity satisfied, I bid you farewell._

_Have a good live._

_S. Snape. _

Reads the letter twice. Turns it to look at the other side of the paper. Checks the envelope. "Shit, Snape, shit." Reads the letter again. Takes the wand out and jabs first the letter and then the envelope several times, murmuring spells under his breathe. Nothing happens. Puts the wand away and reads the letter once more.

Suddenly, the eyes widened, stops at one of the lines. Reads, "Reperio meus cordis…" Looks up. "Find my…heart? Heart?" Drops ungracefully on the chair. "No, Snape, what are you saying?" Reads the letter again. "No." Folds and unfolds the paper. Looks around. "Shit. It is impossible. Snape, how could you… Why did you never tell me…" Jumps up and starts pacing. "All this time, all this time… Snape, you should've… You could've… We would've…" Flops on the couch. "Stupid git." Sits for a while, frowning at the letter. "Stupid, stupid, stupid… How am I going to…" Grabs the envelope again, carefully examines it inside and out, then looks at it, holding it against the moonlight. Does the same with the letter. "Shit." Folds the letter and sticks it into the envelope. "No matter. I am going to find you, Snape. I am going to…" Suddenly, grins wildly and rips the letter out of the envelope. Looks triumphally at the paper in his hand. "Gotch ya!" Jumps up, whipping out the wand. Points it up and, drawing a small circle on the air, murmurs, "Reperio meus cordis."

The next moment he is gone.

**The end**

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**A/N **A huge thanks to all of you, who left a review.


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